Time Travel Via Alternate Universes Makes Things Interesting
by CescaLR
Summary: Time Travel AU. The war had gone on for much longer, and many people had died. Ginny had this one time, this one chance, to go back and make things right. (Full Rewrite, WIP.)
1. POVGW Time Travel- Prolouge - The Ritual

Ginny was the last person she'd choose for this task - in her own opinion, Hermione would be best. Planning and knowledge and perfect recollection; all things Hermione has that Ginny doesn't.

Plus, there are things Ginny _has_ to do that she can't mess up - like the diary. Sending Ginny back, well, Ginny knows that that'll mess things up royally.

But they don't have any other choice. _Hah._ 'They'. She's the only one left.

So. Ginny is sitting there, in Hermione's apartment in Oxford, (Ginny thinks), near that muggle university. Hermione had needed the facilities, and by that time, well, the use of imperious had stopped being a last resort for some of them.

Like Harry. But then, near the end - Harry had gotten a little too good at that sort of thing. Dark magic.

What was dark magic, anyway? In a war; to children raised as soldiers? What was it, but a tool?

Ginny didn't know. She wasn't a mind-healer, she couldn't tell you.

Ginny frowned down at the ritual circle. Hermione's notes were, well, _Hermione's,_ so they were concise and easy to follow for the most part, and so Ginny figured she had everything she needed.

Hopefully.

Ginny took a deep breath. Neville was distracting a group of DEs down south, Harry and Ron were taking a last stand in Manchester.

Luna was at Cambridge. Ginny and Hermione had gone undercover, near the end. Bless them, but Harry and Ron wouldn't have been able to stand that.

Ginny dropped her glamour - though the short-cropped blonde hair stayed. At least, once she went back, Ginny would never have bleached it.

Ginny finished the last chalk marking - lit the candles, sat cross-legged in the middle. Uncapped the vial she'd had in her pocket and downed it, then cast the spell.

There was a reason people never did this.

(Lack of proof of it working.)

 _Avada Kedavra._

* * *

Ginny gasped, sat straight up in her bed and shoved off her covers. She collapsed onto the floor, then scrambled to the mirror.

Twelve. She'd started tying her hair up for bed that summer. Ginny relaxed, minutely. _She didn't have to go through that again._

Ginny wasn't in the mood for reliving past trauma, though she knew that that would end up happening at some point. If Ron and Hermione couldn't convince Harry not to go to the Ministry, then nobody could. Unless they put him in a body bind.

Ginny considered that for a moment. After all - Ginny didn't have any plans. Hermione was the one that was supposed to go back, but after the accident in the lab... well. Hermione had used herself as a distraction while Ginny sent herself back.

Ginny took a deep breath. It looked like four am out - and she was _tired._ Ginny went back over to her bed, got in, and settled in for some long-awaited sleep.

At least, for now, she could do so without needing to worry about being murdered during the act.


	2. POVGW Time Travel - Chapter One - Diagon

Ginny woke up the next day to the sound of the roosters in their yard crowing, and a tentative smile overtook her face for a moment.

She was back, back before the vast majority of the terrible things went down. Before Pettigrew, before You-Know-Who's return, before everyone and anyone even remotely close to her (and those that were so far from that it wasn't funny) died.

Not before the start of all this. But before Cedric's death; before the first catalyst.

Ginny pushed off her quilt and stood, then stretched. She couldn't for the life of her remember what had happened this day, or indeed what day it was - it certainly wasn't the day they needed to be getting to Hogwarts at... Ginny rather thought it was after Egypt, however, so rather close to said date.

After she quickly rifled through her things, this was confirmed; the boots Bill had gifted her as an early/late birthday present were at the base of her wardrobe.

In her last go through of this life, she'd rarely worn them. And they were good boots; she just hadn't appreciated how useful they'd be, in the long run. At the time.

Ginny got dressed, and as she laced up her boots she could hear the slamming of doors and the heavy footfalls of her older brothers and nodded to herself.

After Egypt. Before Diagon, because they stayed there until school started.

Ginny knew that she couldn't prevent Scabbers from being in the picture of them in the Prophet because she hadn't gone back far enough. So Sirius was likely on the run right now, and Scabbers was going to start acting ill and all that rot.

Sniveling bastard.

Anyway, Ginny collected herself before she opened the door and stomped her way downstairs, as she remembered doing at this age.

"Toast," She said, as she slid into her seat and grabbed a plate. Ginny had never really been a morning person (which was true for most of the Weasley children, aside from Bill and Percy - Charlie apparently became one after he moved to Romania) and so this manner of speaking was expected, which Ginny was glad for. She wasn't sure how she'd be able to look Fred in the face, considering the last she'd known him he was dead.

The toast was pushed in her direction by Ron, and she nodded in thanks. Ginny spread the jam over the toast and dug in after loading up her plate with hash browns and sausages and all manner of traditional English breakfast foods.

"You'll need to go down to the market and sell off some of our produce today, dears," Molly said, and Ginny nodded.

Ron agrees through a mouthful of food. The twins stop joking around for a moment to nod, mock-serious, and swear on their friend Lee's spider's grave that they won't set of fireworks in the middle of the muggle village.

"And see that you don't!" their mum admonishes. "We don't need obliviators swarming around the place..." She says, and Ginny wholeheartedly agrees with that.

She'd rather the Ministry stayed the fuck away while it's still as corrupt as it is now, back in her second year.

"Alright mum," George says cheerfully, and Ginny smiles behind her orange juice. George hadn't been so lively since Fred died, and it was nice to see.

At least, for now. Until they do something stupid she has to get them back for, again.

"Got'ta send a letter off," Ron says, muffled.

"Then you can go later with the potatoes," Mum says, and Ginny hesitates.

"I do too," Ginny says, finally, and Mum nods. "Alright then, dear," Molly says, agreeable, and Ginny knows she'd do that regardless of what had recently happened to Ginny before this summer, but that doesn't mean Ginny doesn't think of her as mollycoddling sometimes, despite that.

Ginny almost asks if she can send them off with Pgiwidgeon, but remembers that Ron hasn't gotten the tiny owl yet, and winces, holds her tongue. She's going to need to remember things like that a little better - keep an eye on developments; what has and hasn't happened yet.

At least this time around, Ginny thinks, she knows dating Dean and Michael isn't the best idea. Ginny had had an alright time, except Dean was a bit too much sometimes and Michael could be an utter prat... fairly often.

"Well, better get the letters over and done with," Ginny says, finishes up her meal and drops her plate into the sink, remembering just in time to take it there physically instead of floating it over. Ginny hurries on upstairs and can hear Ron start making his way up, and she needs to write this letter quickly because it needs to look like she'd planned this and meant it.

"I'll get the letters," Ginny says to Ron as he passes on his way up to his room, and then shuts herself in her's.

Ginny quickly grabs a quill, ink, and some parchment, and begins writing.

 _Dear Luna... sorry I haven't written much this summer - Egypt was great; though I'm fairly sure I didn't find any snorkaks, there was this tomb... Dear Colin ...- tone down your Potter mania this year, please, mate, just try to make your crush less obvious, trust me we're embarrassing (I'm working on it too!) and write more often - there's this system for sending letters through the Muggle post to wizards and the like, so you don't need to rely on useless old Errol..._

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I've got to say, the formalities make this a bit awkward, but I just wanted to thank you. I know this'll probably make you uncomfortable to read, but I've still got to say it; you saved my life, and I owe you one. Or several. Depends on the system you want to go by._

 _Still, if anything, I think trying to be friends is a good start. There's more to me than a previously possessed damsel in distress and there's more to you than a knight in bloody school robes, I'd wager._

 _And you could do with more friends. Don't get me wrong, Hermione's great (and I suppose my brother has some good values - I'm joking! I'm joking) but you know. The more the merrier, right?_

 _Anyway, that's that, I guess. Ron's probably going to regale you with embellished tales about Egypt and leave out the stuff that embarrasses him, so if you want the juicy gossip, just ask._

 _\- Ginny._

Ginny quickly blows on the parchment to dry the ink, then rolls up the letters and ties them. She hears Ron repeat his impatient demand, and Ginny rolls her eyes and opens the door, shoves the letters into his waiting arms. "There you go," She says, cheerfully, "I'll get the potatoes in the sacks while you send those off, yeah? I've written who they go to," Ginny taps where she's written the names and addresses of the recipients, and then quickly makes her way downstairs before Ron can say anything in response.

* * *

Ginny doesn't really mind the bi-weekly trip down to the Muggle's market because it's a way to stretch her legs and see more of the world than the Burrow and Hogwarts... even if it is just this tiny little section of southern England.

Ginny and Ron are lugging the two potato sacks through the forest path and down the hill towards the road, which once they arrive to they'll walk half a mile to the left, at which point they've arrived at the market.

"Always the worst job," Ron grumbles, and Ginny half agrees with that.

"Well, we could be checking the onions," Ginny says. "Or de-gnoming the garden. Or, if mum was feeling particularly evil, we could be tending to the crops or the chickens..."

"Alright, I get it," Ron sighs. "Not the worst job."

"I like the chickens," Ginny says. "But Bertha can be a real pain, sometimes."

Ron snorts, and Ginny grins.

The two plod along in relatively comfortable silence for the rest of the journey and check the area for the twins once they arrive at the market.

"Don't know why mum trusts them enough to send them alone," Ron says, grimacing, and Ginny would generally agree, but she's feeling lenient, considering.

Ginny's at a disadvantage there, really. But oh well.

They spot their brothers trying to haggle over the sale price for the tomatoes, and Ginny marches on over, leaves Ron with the two sacks of potatoes and ignores his annoyed complaints.

"Hello," Ginny says, smiling charmingly at the person behind the stall, "If you'll excuse us?" Ginny asks, then turns to her brothers.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Ginny demands. "Mum said to sell them, not stand here yelling about prices while the food dies."

"Ah, little sister, but that is where you're wrong," Fred says, "We're simply trying to get the best price."

"Well, you'll be getting no price if you don't sell them," Ginny says. "Excuse me, but how much are you willing to pay for these?"

"Standard rate for independent farm foods," The man says. "three-twenty ounces of organic, fifteen pounds. Lose a fiver if they're not certifiably organic."

"They're organic," Ginny says. "We don't use any, uh..."

"Chemicals," George says, smoothly. "No chemicals."

The man narrows his eyes at them suspiciously. "Alright," He says, dubious but willing. "Sure, whatever. How much you got there?"

"We usually bring about eighty pounds, but we're a bit short today," Ginny says. "Seventy."

"Alright," The man says. "I'll take sixty."

Fred sighs and the twins take out three of the boxes then stack them up on the table.

"Thanks," Ginny says. "The money?"

"Wife'll get it for you," He says. "She's over there, buying the grains."

"Thanks," Ginny says.

The three make their way over to the man's wife, and she smiles cheerfully at them.

"Andrew's sent you over for the cash, hasn't he?" She says, and experamentally pokes at the cash register. "My Jaimie usually manages this thing, but he's off at college now," The woman explains uncessarily, as she finally get the money compartment open. "Aha! Anyway, you selling sixty?" She nods to herself and takes out forty-five punds, then hands it over. "There you are!" She says, cheerfully. "That your brother over there?" She asks, pointing to Ron, who's handing over the sacks and being pointed towards this lady for the money.

"Yeah," Ginny nods, and the woman smiles again. "Might as well wait for him then," She says, so they stand there awkwardly as Ron makes his way over.

"Sell 'em both?" Ginny asks.

"Yeah," Ron says, and the lady gives him the money - fifty, it seems, which isn't much, but they've got a shit tonne of potatoes on sale here so she gets why.

"Off to get the rest then?" Ginny says. "Because I call dibs on the berries."

* * *

It's usually Sundays and Fridays they go to the market, and Ginny finds it entertaining enough, but it is exhausting, which is likely why she forgot that was the day before they went to Diagon this summer; they'd gone late because they'd been in Egypt, and they'd had to sell the stuff before the preservation charms went off and the food went bad so they'd gone Wednesday instead.

"Up, up!" Ginny heard as she dressed, as her mum rapped on each bedroom door.

"We're off to get your school supplies!" She calls. "And since your dad found out Harry's been staying there since they found him, we thought it would be nice to stay for the rest of the week, so pack yourselves some extra clothes!"

Ginny rushed to follow orders and found herself the first downstairs. Last time, that had been Ron, and the twins (being next) had teased him about it as they normally do.

"That was quick of you," Molly says, and Ginny shrugs. "What can I say?" Ginny says. "A week in Diagon sounds fun."

This time around, Ginny's the one who the twins tease before Molly intervenes, but she takes it far better than Ron has ever done (too short a fuse and too serious about things like that, she's found over the years) so things go a little smoother, and Ron isn't mildly grumpy for the drive to Diagon, which is nice.

They talk about Quidditch, which is a nice change from battle plans and dueling strategies.

Not that this Ron has ever had those conversations.

Once they're there, in Diagon, Ginny makes certain to be around when Harry shows himself, which means sticking with Ron more than she'd done in her last go through.

"Don't you have anything else to do?" Ron grumbles, and Ginny rolls her eyes. She'd wandered off last time, met Neville and made friends with him enough so that he asked her to the Yule ball in his fourth year. She could make friends with him anytime, however, so Ginny sticks around.

Ron quietens when she doesn't reply and glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn't say anything. Ginny knows this Ron still feels guilty for what happened in her first year and that he didn't notice, and she doesn't want to use that because it's not his fault, not at all, but she has to.

"Hermione!" Ron calls out when he sees the bushy-haired girl, and her already fairly dark complexion has darkened further over the summer. "Ron!" She greets back, just as loud over the noise of the busy street. "And Ginny," She adds, tone warm. "How are you? How was Egypt?" Ron launches into an embellished version of events and shows Hermione the image in the paper. She smiles indulgently and nods in all the right places, but she does seem genuine about it, which is good.

"Scabbers fell ill though," Ron says, frowning. "So I'll need to go pick up some tonic for him..."

Ginny still felt fairly bad for him about the whole Scabbers situation. She'd find a way to capture him soon, preferably within the first month of school.

Hermione nods sympathetically. "I'm thinking of getting a pet," She segues, "An owl, maybe, though Hogwarts has it's own so that's not hugely necessary..." Hermione walks them through the pros and cons of the three allowed animal types - she simply refuses to have a pet that isn't either an owl, a cat, or a toad, even if that's technically allowed since nobody's ever scolded for having a different species.

The three make their way to the Leaky Cauldron and find Harry at Florean's on the way there, so forget that plan and slide into the table he's on. "Hello," Ginny greets, smiling.

"I got your letter," Harry says. "All of your letters. Here," He says, pushes two letters to both Ron and Ginny herself; one for each of them. "I was going to send them later," He tells them, and Ron pockets his, then starts up a conversation, but Ginny reads her's first.

 _Ginny,_

 _You were right about it making me a bit uncomfortable, I'll admit, but you aren't right about owing me anything. It was the right thing to do._

 _I'd hope so... if everyone had a single defining characteristic, I think things would be pretty bland. So... yeah, I'd like that._

 _If you say so, I guess that makes sense. And sure - why not? You were right by the way; you all look pretty happy in the photo he taped to my present, it was nice to see._

 _So yeah, why not?_

 _\- Harry._

"Alright," Ginny said, nodded. Harry scratched the back of his neck and shrugged, and Hermione smiled slightly, while Ron just looked confused.

"So anyway, happy belated birthday," Ginny says. "How was it?"

"Oh, you know," Harry says. "I blew up my aunt the day after, so..."

"Tainted," Ginny sighs. "Always a shame."

"Blew up your aunt?" Hermione asks eyes narrowed. "What did you do, Harry?"

"I didn't do anything!" Harry defends himself.

"Sounds like accidental magic," Ron says. "Bit odd, but sure. How funny was it?" He grins, and Harry's lips quirk upwards. "I didn't blow her up like _boom,"_ He clarifies, and Hermione relaxes, which is kind of funny but mostly makes Ginny wonder why she assumed that. "I mean, like a balloon. She, well..." Harry hesitates, then shrugs. "She called my mother a bitch."

"Oh," Hermione said, quietly, and Ginny could see the anger she felt reflected in Ron's reddened ears.

"Well I can tell who's the bitch here," Ginny snaps. "Not directly," Harry adds. "'If there's something wrong with the pup, then there's something wrong with the bitch'", he qutoes, rolling his eyes. "I guess I just couldn't take it anymore. You know, all the taunting she'd been doing the whole night."

Ginny nods, and Hermione looks worried. "You didn't get in trouble, though, right?" She asks, and Harry shakes his head, "Thought I was going to get expelled for a while there," He admits, "Considering what Dobby did last year, but apparently that's not the case."

"Why would it be?" Ron asks, "Accidental magic can't be stopped, you know."

"They don't punish you for things out of your control," Ginny agrees. "Though most people grow out of it during their years at Hogwarts, we've got a second cousin who still does it fairly often and they're about twenty."

"How many cousins do you have?" Harry asks, amused, and Ginny hesitates, then shrugs. "A lot," Ron offers.


End file.
